Terminal Hero
by dragonrose427
Summary: What happens to a hero once he has failed? Perhaps Majora can provide the answer.
1. Prologue

The light was blinding, the heat unbearable as it wrapped itself around your raised arms, entire body crippled by the sound of wind and the scent of burning flesh. Pain sears through you.

The moon has fallen.

No one has been saved.

You were a hero, and the hero is dead.

You open your eyes and are surrounded in nothing; a blackness so thick it presses in on your still burning muscles and blots out the after image of flames that should be haunting your eyes.

"The Hero of Time."

The Princess stands in front of you, sword resting at her feet, a tear hanging from the corner of a very sad smile.

You see yourself taking a step toward her, reaching out your hand. But there is nothing beneath your feet, no weight to your limbs. No matter how quickly you move, you never draw near.

"You have failed again, young hero." Another tear rolls down her cheek, but her smile remains.

You don't understand. Again?  
"Remember."


	2. Chapter 1

Link stood on the platform as Ganondorf rose into the air, a dark triangle gleaming on the back of his hand. The hero's heart raced, his mouth dry and the pressure behind his eyes building as he tried to focus on his opponent. This was the creature responsible for the capture of Princess Zelda. The destruction of Hyrule.

Link, the Hero of Time.

He pressed his weight into the ground, sword drawn and shield braced against his torso as a ball of energy closed the distance across the room. The space was suffocating, the light too pressing, the shadows too deep. Link's movements were jerky, reflexive. He pushed his shield forward, the energy bouncing off the metal, and dissipating as it reached the wall.  
Another shot of light flew from Ganondorf's hand. Link threw a few anxious strikes, hoping to force some of that power back at his foe. A hollow, metallic ring sounded as the blade made contact, and energy seared through the steel and up the hero's arm.

A shout escaped Link's throat at the sensation. Every muscle in his arm locked, pain racing up through his shoulder. His grip tightened on the weapon, the muscles screaming against the force and the fire racing through them.

The light seared to the right of Ganondorf's head.

Link took a step back to regain his balance, and fought to lift the tip of the blade from the stone floor. He swung at the second beam of light, crying out, the sheer weight of the Master Sword pulling painfully against his seared tendons.

Link's hand flinched as the tip of the blade brushed the tendrils of energy radiating from the central attack. He threw his shield forward again, hoping to deflect the energy his sword had missed. The small glowing ball brushed past, tearing the air from his lungs and knocking him into the wall. Electricity raced through his bones, consuming any strength he had left, before leaving him sprawled on the floor, the room still flashing white in sync to the pounding in his head.

Link, the Hero of Time.

He forced his muscles to cooperate, willing them to go numb long enough for the light arrows to serve their purpose. He stood again, raising his sword to a ready position, legs shaking, but holding. He would be ready this time.  
The next flash of energy seemed smaller than the previous ones, and arced around to his right.

"Hyah!"

The blade made contact with the sphere, sending it hurtling to the other side of the room. He would not fail.  
Pain ignited in the center of his back, needles of energy tearing his muscles and ripping through his skull. His heart and lungs had seized up in pain.  
And then another sphere hit.

And another.

And another.

The room went dark. A deep throated laugh faded into the stillness. A cold, firm stone rose to meet his now empty hands.


	3. Chapter 2

Link fell backwards with a gasp, tripping over the wide steps of the Temple of Time. The Master Sword rested in its stone. A long, thin crack ran through the blade. Link looked down at himself, his slingshot and boomerang strapped to his belt. He turned and looked through the thin windows of the temple; the sun was shining. He turned and ran.

As he entered the main courtyard of Castle Town, Link slowed. These people had no idea what had happened. Everything seemed normal, happy. Because for now, it was.  
Link had failed. He could feel the energy lingering in his muscles, the memory of the pain pinching his chest with each breath. What would become of Hyrule? Link ducked into the first door he saw, trying to get away from the cheerful noise of the city and the warmth of the sun.

He couldn't stay. He couldn't face Princess Zelda. She had trusted him with the Ocarina, the Temple. She had trusted him with Hyrule. He had failed.

"Oh…you've met with a terrible fate, haven't you?"

Link looked up to see a man smiling at him, hunched over from the massive pack on his back.

"You seem a bit down, young man…what could a bright, young face like yours have suffered from?" An unnerving grin stained his face.

Link shook his head, wanting to disappear. He sat on the floor of the shop, wrapping his arms around his knees and ducking his head as low as he could, fighting back the pain and guilt overwhelming his mind.

"Here…why don't you take this to cheer you up? I can't seem to find anyone who wants to buy it…" A rough, staggered giggle escaped the man's lips as a wooden clunk drew Link's attention back up.

A strange purple face sat on the floor before him. Link picked it up, the wood light in his hand. The wide, yellow eyes looked back. There was judgement in those eyes.

"You failed," they said.

"You were never truly a hero."

"Hyrule will burn because of you."

Link turned the mask over and pushed it, face down, into the floor. He blinked back the tears trying to spill from his eyes. Heroes didn't cry.

Link looked up to hand the mask back to the smiling man, but he was gone. The boy brushed his hand over the light colored wood inside the mask, sanded smooth, and uncoated. This mask was old; it had weathered the time well.

Link carefully picked it up, hesitating for a moment before gently pressing it against his face. Slowly, his pain started to ease. With this face, he was no longer the hero. He was no longer a **failed** hero.

Tears rolled down his cheek and stained the pale bark. The wood felt warm and secure. He had never **asked** to be a savior, to risk his own life for people who barely saw him…  
But he had agreed. He had accepted the burden.

Blame filled his eyes and spilled into the mask again, muffling the choked sobs. As Link lowered his hands, his tears stopped. The damp wood was hugging his face, gently resting against the curve of his cheeks and nose. Such a large mask…but the strange man had said he was unable to sell it. This must have been why; it would only fit the face of a child.

Link walked out of the store, vision only slightly impaired. As he walked to the gate, nobody seemed to notice the small boy with the strange face. The guard at the gate didn't even look down.

Link ran his hands along the stones that composed the walls of LonLon Ranch.  
The sun had set a few hours ago; the ranch slept peacefully. Occasionally, the light chirp of crickets would break the eeriness of night.

Link pulled open the barn door, hoping Malon and her father remained asleep. Epona rested in a stall not far from the door, her still small body curled against a pile of straw and wood chippings. Flashes of copper and the heavy sound of hooves ran through Link's mind. She would be so noble, so strong. She was his best friend.

Link pulled the Ocarina out of the pouch on his belt, and played her song. The little foal slowly awoke, eyes blinking as she turned her head toward the sound.

Epona stood, huffing and backing into the wall as Link reached out his hand. Tears threatened his eyes again. She was his best friend; she couldn't be afraid of him. She just couldn't.

As Link tried to wipe the blurriness from his eyes, he felt the curve of wood. He had forgotten he was wearing the mask. The warm night air caused it to pull against his skin, but Link lowered the mask, and Epona stilled.

She walked up to him, nose pushing against the mask until he set it down and wrapped his arms around her neck. Her short mane was warm, her muscles still soft. She stood calmly as he held her, her breath ruffling the ends of his hair.

Link grabbed supplies from the walls of the stable, and prepared Epona for the trip. She couldn't carry much, but they would have what they needed.

He led Epona outside the stable before walking back in and picking up the mask. Link remembered all he had gone through to win Epona, back when he was grown. Her strength had won the race and gotten them off the ranch that day. This time he was stealing her, taking her away from home. From Malon.

Link untied his wallet with his free hand, and placed it in the center of the pen. Five hundred rupees could never repay Malon and Talon for what they had done, or what he had taken. But it was all he had.

Link walked back out and pulled himself into the saddle, before once again securing the mask over his face. From this point forward, he would just be a stranger. Nobody close. Nobody to hurt.


	4. Chapter 3

_Link stared, anger building in his chest. This Skullkid had stolen his mask, stolen the Ocarina. But he wouldn't take Epona. Not his friend._

_The Skullkid laughed as Link reached for his sword._

_"Oh come now. Do you really think you can beat me as I am now? Fool!"_

_Another laugh sent pain searing through the boy, the images crowding in his head. Deku scrubs marched toward him, the cracking sounds causing his head to swim and every bone in his body to ache unbearably._

_When he finally reopened his eyes, Link caught his reflection. He ran small hands over his wooden face, terror setting in. A high pitch whine replaced his screaming._

_How could he save Epona now? The shock and fear residing in his reflection drowned out the world. His eyes hazed over, the frantic ringing of a fairy reduced to a distant glimmer of sound._

_He was lost. He was alone. He was trapped._

_But he would find Epona._

Zelda paced nervously outside the bunker. It was cold and isolated down there; she should be with her people. Ganondorf was a real threat. She should be by her father's side, protecting them, even if her father couldn't see the treachery under his nose.

Instead she had sent a boy no older than herself to save them all.

Zelda tried to stave back the worry and the nerves. Link had been chosen by the goddesses, not her. If they found him worthy, who was she to argue? She just hoped he would be enough…

A frantic giggle broke her train of thought. The princess looked up to see from where it had come.

"Wh…Who are you, child?"

Princess Zelda stared at the small boy in front of her. Nobody, save Impa, knew where she was. Her refuge in the Lost Woods was guarded by powerful magic; who was this boy that he could simply pass through?

His green clothes were dirty and torn, the edges of the fabric singed. His belt hung at an odd angle; too big for such a thin child. Unruly blonde hair stuck out in all directions from behind a purple mask. The painted yellow eyes were wide with something between confusion and madness.

The strange face ticked to the right a few times before a sporadic giggle came from the face behind the mask. Before she could respond, the boy folded over in another laugh, running through the trees into the darkness.

A blue fairy chimed sporadically as it shuddered in the air, frightened. It hesitated, turning between the princess and the child, and flew off into the forest after the boy.


	5. Chapter 4

_The man was odd, his eerie smile and hunched back pricking something in the back of Link's mind._

_"Listen to me. Play this song, and remember it well."_

_Link listened closely to the notes, their sound strangely familiar. As he played, a brush of wind passed over him, carrying the memories of pain and cracking. Linked closed his eyes against the expected agony, and instead saw an impressive deku scrub. His eyes were kind, grateful. Link could feel his pain easing as the image faded._

_When he opened his eyes, he was a boy again, a sad-eyed deku mask lying at his feet._

_"This is a song that heals…"_

_Heals, fixes; makes things better. If he could find Epona, maybe he could heal Hyrule. Maybe he could finally make things better._

The princess stepped carefully through the twists and turns of the sacred grove. The air was quiet, heavy. She climbed the stairs to the little grotto by the temple's entrance; she was sure the strange child had come this way, where was he?

As she reached the top of the stairs, a small figure caught her eye; Saria was resting against a tree in the corner. Her eyes were closed, her arms crossed in her lap, a pale ocarina resting in the crook of her wrist.

Zelda kneeled down next to the girl, legs heavy. She brushed a hand over the small face, trying not to jar the arrow protruding from Saria's chest, as sobs shook her.

A perfect shot to the heart.

Why would anyone do this? She was a child. Her lips rested in the slightest smile, an echo of happiness, even now. Her tunic was stained, still tacky from the blood.

Zelda let tears flow as she snapped the shaft of the arrow and pushed the tip through the young Kokiri's back. The broken wood left small splinters in Zelda's hand, the arrow head cutting nicks in her arm as she tried to tear the back of Saria's tunic. Zelda placed the material as flat as she could on Saria's back, removing the small wood chips that snagged on the torn material, and laid her back against the tree.

Zelda ripped a piece of her own cloak and wrapped the blood stained pieces of the arrow; she would burn them later that night, and pray Saria's spirit be taken peacefully in the hands of the Goddesses.

But for now, she would leave Saria lie, resting peacefully in the arms of her forest.

As Zelda stood to leave, a child's shrill laugh echoed through the wood.


	6. Chapter 5

_Link aimed carefully as the giant warrior began to dance and chant, once again trying to summon demonic forest insects with every intent on killing him. The shot flew straight, wedging itself into the wooden creature's head as it collapsed, dissipating into blue flame. _

_Link approached the crystal container lying on the ground where the corpse had dissolved. Lying next to it was a wooden mask, roughly carved and painted. Not as refined and preserved as the one for which he was searching. The face was pained, angry. Remnants of the troubled spirit now put to rest. _

_Link picked it up, the feel of the rough bark slipping away as the mask rose slowly into the air, and the room filled with fog. The air was chilled, moving rapidly around him, but there was no wind to push him over. The walls of space were gone; small water droplets floated in the misty-green air, and a deep, sad sound surrounded the boy._

_"Listen…" Tatl said, directing Link's attention to the source. An enormous creature stood in the distance, swaying back and forth to its own rhythm._

_"Could that crying be its way of teaching us some sort of melody?"_

_Link pulled the Ocarina from out of his pouch and began to mimic the tune this giant was singing. Crying. A lonely cry._

_"Call us."_

Us_. So he was not alone. This giant guardian was weeping over the land. Over Termina. Over the moon. He had to save this place; Link was a hero. _

_A hero? A voice sat at the back of his mind, so familiar…_

_It told him he was a hero. A hero of…time? An ache began to grow in the back of Link's head as the mist faded and the room of Odolwa reformed around him. He shook his head, pushing the too familiar voice out of his mind. Maybe he was a hero, but did it matter? He had to help these people, hero or not. He had to get his mask back from the skullkid._

His_ mask? He seemed to remember the mask salesman giving it to him, but…didn't he also say it was stolen in the woods?_

_Link shook his head again. It didn't matter. He had to get the mask back to the salesman. Even if the man _had_ given it to Link, he didn't want anything that could cause so much suffering._

_Link cracked open the crystal heart lying next to him and began to drink the sparkling liquid inside. It was warm and thick, uncomfortable as it slid down his throat, but it gave him energy, strength. It gave him courage._

_He would get the mask. He would stop the moon. He would get Epona back. That's all that mattered. _

The laugh seemed to hang, staining the air with its mocking tone. It was pounding in the princess' ears, reminding her of the Kokiri girl lying behind her, and pushing tears from her eyes again. Zelda's eyes began to sting, panic setting in as she realized the pain was not from crying.

Smoke.

A scream cracked through the forest as Zelda broke into a run; bolting through the Lost Woods as quickly as she could manage. Her heart shattered as she emerged into the small village, its inhabitants fleeing the destruction.

The air was thick and black; smoke, leaves, and bark swirling in the smothering warmth. Some of the Kokiri were running into the woods, others tried to flee to Hyrule Field. The flames were just starting to lick the tips of the shrubs closest to her, the green youth of the plants barely hindering the fire as it spread. The shrill laugh sounded again, seemingly impervious to the ash and heavy air.

Zelda pushed her way South, trying to find her way through the panic and soot to the source of the flames. She collapsed at the edge of the Deku Tree's Meadow, smothering the singed edges of her cloak, coughing as her lungs resisted the burning air. Her head aching, her throat scorched, her muscles weak from grief and oxygen deprivation, Zelda sat, watching in disbelief. The Great Deku Tree, the source of life and hope for the Kokiris, was entirely engulfed in flames. She could hear the wood cracking, the wood screaming for relief from its torment.

A small creature danced around the young Deku Sprout, the only part of the meadow not blazing. The bright yellow eyes pierced through the smoke and stared, unblinking, at the sad princess. Another laugh mixed with the smoke and fire. The child-like being reached down, wrapping its arms around the Sprout in a wiry hug. In one smooth motion, with more strength than any child or Kokiri would have, the masked figure yanked the Deku Sprout from the dry soil, roots wiggling and shaking as through trying to reach back and bury into the ground.

With a bouncy, bow-legged gait, the figure danced around the mass of dead tree for a few seconds before flinging the sprout into the base of the flames.  
Zelda tried to scream, tried to cry, tried to move. Her body refused to cooperate, strained to its limit. The laugh still flooded her ears, sending a chill up her spine as the world began to spin. She felt arms reach around and yank at her waist, lifting her off the ground as the flames went dark.


End file.
